Moonshine
by InjaMorgan
Summary: Just a short trip into the sad life of Rose Tyler in the “the other” universe. But with a happy ending and nice music :D


**A/N:** So, this is my first story :-D Well, not really, I have published many stories in my native language, but this is my first try in English.

Thanks to my beta oddood, there are not as many mistakes in it as there were before, so, just enjoy reading it :-)

If you want to have the music this story was inspired by, just go to Youtube and search for Beethoven's "Moonlight Sonata".

**Disclaimer:** I had a dream where I kidnapped RTD and Tennant … but, unfortunately, this was just a dream and everything still belongs to the BBC.

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**Moonshine**

In that night she wandered through the corridors like a ghost, her movements muffled by the thick carpets. Her eyes were empty and her face did not show any emotion, no grief and no delight. From time to time she stopped in front of a door and thought about entering or not. But she always turned away and moved on. Her hand touched the walls; maybe to make sure that she still existed.

She needed this, although she did not want to admit.

In front of a double wing door she stopped again, but this time paused longer. How long did she not go inside? Her fingers touched the doorknob; they shimmered golden in the dim light of the lamps in the hall. Blond hair fell in her face, and with a jerk she turned the doorknob around and entered the room behind.

It was a big, now dark room with several high windows and soft moonlight seeped through them. In the centre of it stood an ancient grand piano, only visible as a majestic shadow. Without haste she went to the instrument and stroked a key, listened after the sound.

As a little girl she had always wished to learn playing the piano, but there was never enough money for such things at that time. Then everything changed, and now there was even an own parlour for it.

She struck another key. She had had much time to learn. An indefinite amount of time.

She sat down and placed her hands on the clavier. She did not need any notes. She simple played.

The tones resounded gently throughout the estate; she was alone, of course.

A tear fell down on the keys. A second one followed, and another one.

Actually she did not want to cry. She had promised she would not cry. But he had lied to her. He had known it, or at least suspected and had left her behind.

The fury returned, her playing became louder, more rapid.

She had seen so much and had experienced so many things. But now with no one to share it, she was so terribly alone.

Yes, there were grandchildren, great-grandchildren, but they were not interested in her. For them she was a freak, a monster; how could something exist and yet not die?

Her fingers slowed down. How long has it been, 50 years, 60 years? The grave was simple but well tended.  
The curators of the cemetery wondered over and over why such a young girl visited the grave of a long forgotten man.

She had loved him, although she never could forget that he was not the one she had fallen in love with. Particularly as she became aware of the fact that time did not touch her.

From this moment on everything changed. A forever could not exist anymore. Not with him.

She continued to do him justice, but he felt how she slowly turned away from him. It was not deliberate, but her thoughts were just in the world that she could not reach anymore.

Again and again he had found her with red eyes, but did not say a word. Their children gave a last hold; for them they were strong and loved each other as much as possible.

As the difference in age could be seen better and better, it became more complicated. Her parents died, happy until the end, although the sorrows of their daughter burdened them. They had found each other once again. In her innermost she was endlessly envious of the oh-so-cheerful life they had lived. Yes, with ups and downs, but which marriage had them not?

The years passed, their children moved out, and she herself moved into a smaller room. He just looked at her sadly, but again said nothing.

If he was sick, she cared for him and if he needed her presence, she was there for him, but she could not huddle against him anymore, without thinking of the other, and she did not want to commit this betrayal.

She wept as he died. He had been the last connection to her old life, and now she was the last one who could remember. She amplified her efforts to find a way home, but there was nothing, not even a small loophole.

Since that time, many things had happened, and yet nothing. The seasons passed by and over and over again she sat down at the piano and played.

Until one day cool hands covered her eyes and a soft voice whispered in her ear.

"Did you really think I would leave you alone?"

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So, what do you think, Ten or Eleven?


End file.
